“Aren’t they supposed to ask permission to come into another pack’s territory?”
“They are. But if they can murder three humans, I think it’s safe to believe they’re willing to ignore pack etiquette too. And there are parts of London that aren’t covered by any pack.” God, his head hurt just thinking about all the possibilities. Rubbing at his temples, Michael sighed. “Let’s not dwell on what we should or shouldn’t have done. The council will be here in two weeks. In the meantime, we have a plan. Let’s stick to it and see what happens.”
“You’re right.” Frank pointed to a yellow Post-it stuck to his phone, a scrawled message on it in Frank’s handwriting—Call Miller. “You want to take care of that or go fill in Stewart and Bridgford?”
Detective Sergeant Ian Miller had called just as they were heading in to see Arlington, looking for an update on their case. Professional courtesy made them keep him in the loop, even though he’d handed everything over to the SCTF. But if they could implicate Smith in the murders or get proof that he was organising the fights—and saying they saw him there wouldn’t cut it—then Miller needed to be involved. The lines of jurisdiction got blurry when the crimes involved humans as well as shifters. And it never hurt to keep the City and Met police happy.
“I’ll do Miller. You deal with those two.” Michael pointed his pen at where Bridgford and Stewart sat two desks over.
“Right.” Harry stood, and Michael reached for his phone.
He’d tell Miller the facts of the case but not that they planned to go undercover at the fights. Professional courtesy only stretched so far.
ON THEIR third visit to the Clapham Common pack buildings Thursday afternoon, Frank parked in the same spot he had the previous two times.
“I feel like this should be our designated space,” he muttered, turning off the engine.
Michael grinned at him. “Maybe I’ll suggest that. We’re going to be here a lot more, I reckon.”
Frank faced him, keys in hand. “You seem awfully chipper this morning. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were excited to be here.” He raised both eyebrows and looked a lot like their boss in that moment.
Michael frowned in confusion. He was excited in a way. Was that a bad thing? “I just want to get everything moving. You know I hate waiting around for things to start.”
“Hmm.” Frank didn’t sound convinced.
“What does that mean?”
“Nothing. Forget I said anything.” He went to get out of the car, but Michael’s hand on his arm stopped him.
“If there’s something on your mind, then spit it out. We can’t afford any distractions.”
Frank sighed and slumped a little in his seat. “I’m way out of line, I shouldn’t have mentioned it.”
“But you did.” And they needed to deal with it—whatever it was—and clear the air. Michael continued to stare at him, and eventually Frank gave in.
“Shit, it really was just a stupid thought that popped into my head. You’re gonna be pissed off, and I’m sorry, okay, but Aaron Harper is exactly your type—dark hair, blue eyes, hot, athletic…”
“All shifters are athletic,” Michael replied, more wary than pissed off. “And you think he’s hot?” That did make him smile.
“Piss off, you know he is.”
All shifters had bodies to die for, and a lot of them were what Michael considered hot, but Frank had never brought it up before. And that bothered him. “Okay, Harper’s hot. But so what? We’ve met a lot of hot shifters—women included,” he added, a bit of bite to his voice. “But you don’t see me suggesting you want to bang any of them.”
“I know, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought it up. It’s just…” He hesitated, looking uncharacteristically uncertain. “I caught him giving you the eye a couple of times.”
A laugh burst out of him. “Giving me the eye?” Michael shook his head. “Jesus, Frank, you sound like my mum.” Enjoying the scowl Frank gave him, he smiled. “Look. I agree, Harper’s hot. I’m not blind. But I’m also not stupid either. He’s involved in our investigation and therefore off limits, even if I was interested, which I’m not.”
I’m not.
“Fine.”
“Can we go in now?” Michael glanced out the window at the building next to them and, with a rush of heat to his cheeks, realised that any shifter out on the streets would have heard him. Jesus. He hated their fucking super senses sometimes. Fortunately, no one out there seemed to be paying him and Frank any attention, so either no one heard or they didn’t care. Either way, it was over and they had a job to do.
“Yeah.” Frank opened his door. “Come on.”
This time when they knocked on Sam Thomas’s door, it was the alpha himself who answered it. “Detectives. As prompt as ever.”
“Alpha Thomas.” Michael nodded in greeting. “If we say a time, then we stick to it.”
They entered the flat and followed Thomas into the kitchen diner, and it soon became apparent they were the only ones there.
Noticing him looking around, Thomas said, “Sorry. The others are on their way back from work. We aren’t all as punctual as you, I’m afraid.” He ignored Michael’s huff of irritation. “Can I get you a drink while you wait? Coffee, tea?”
“Coffee would be great, thanks.” Frank smiled amiably, and Michael felt obliged to ask for a coffee too.
“How long will they be?” It wasn’t as though they had anything important to discuss or anything. Christ.
Thomas glanced at the clock. “They should be here any time now.”
They’d no sooner sat down with their coffees when the front door opened and voices sounded in the hall.
Michael couldn’t help but ask. “They have a key to your home?”
“Isaac does, as do my other betas.”
Fair enough. Michael’s mum and Frank had a key to his place.
Isaac came into the living room first, wearing a shirt and trousers, and Michael noted how well he filled out his clothes. Of course he did—shifters looked good in anything. And so did Harry, who followed after him, wearing black trousers and a black shirt with a little logo on the pocket that Michael couldn’t quite make out.
But when Aaron walked in, Michael almost choked on his coffee. And it was all Frank’s fault.
After their conversation in the car, instead of giving Aaron the vague appreciation he’d given the other two, Michael found his gaze lingering. Aaron wore the same black shirt and trousers as Harry, but they seemed to cling to Aaron more in all the right places. The material of his shirt pulled taut along his shoulders, outlining the strength underneath, and his package was far too well defined in those trousers. With great effort, Michael tore his gaze away and took another drink of coffee.
Fucking focus.
He sent Frank a glare. Even if he didn’t know what it was for, it made Michael feel better.
When everyone was settled, he set his coffee down and clasped his hands. “So, the plan for tonight is as follows…”
He felt four sets of eyes on him as he explained how he thought things would go down. Frank had heard it all before, so he sat there watching everyone else.
Ideally, Michael would have liked one of the SCTF to go along with them, but a human accompanying two shifters would be weird at best, and they needed this to go smoothly. They’d just have to rely on Isaac and Harry being able to defend themselves if things went wrong.
“Am I going to wear a wire?” Harry asked when Michael finished talking.
“No.” He managed not to laugh, even though Harry sounded like someone off a TV crime show. “I mean, we could do something like that, but we can also remotely activate the microphone on your iPhone to record the conversation.”
Harry’s eyes went wide, and then he quickly glanced at where his phone sat on the table. His thoughts were so easy to read it was almost comical.
Michael sighed. “No, we haven’t been listening to your conversations. We need to obtain your permission to in
stall something on your phone first. There are laws and procedures we have to follow too.”
Looking mollified but not altogether convinced, Harry nodded. “Okay.”
“Detective Archer.” Alpha Thomas’s voice, although relatively soft, still commanded respect, and Michael looked over at him immediately. “I have a slight addition to the plan you’ve outlined. If I may?”
“Please.” He gestured for Thomas to carry on, curious as to what he had to say. No doubt Michael would have to veto it and then spend an hour arguing about why.
“Two of Isaac’s unit will accompany them tonight. They’ll stay well out of sight but within hearing range. Just in case. I don’t know these people, and although we’ve agreed to help in your investigation, my first priority is always my pack, Detective. I won’t leave them to meet with armed humans without backup.”
He stared at Michael, expression hard and ready to argue, but surprisingly, Michael thought he made a good point. Any of the SCTF wouldn’t be able to get close enough to be of any use, not without being seen, anyway. And although he thought this was overkill, Harry only owed a few hundred pounds, not thousands, it wouldn’t hurt to have backup. He didn’t fancy explaining to the alpha council how he managed to get members of Thomas’s pack injured or killed. Some things they couldn’t heal from.
“Fine,” he said. “Just make sure they stay well out of sight.”
Thomas seemed taken aback, obviously not expecting Michael to acquiesce so easily. He recovered quickly. “Of course.”
Addressing Harry, Michael said, “You all set for later? Any questions?”
“No, I think I’m good.” He scooped up his phone. “I should get a text later telling me where to meet them.”
“Okay. As soon as you do, let us know.”
“Yeah, all right.” Harry added Michael and Frank’s numbers to his phone.
“I think we’re done.”
Everyone stood, and as he turned to leave, he felt a hand on his arm, the grip firm. Turning, Michael came face-to-face with Harper. They were roughly the same height and standing closer together than Michael expected. “Yes?” There was nowhere to look other than Aaron’s eyes because Michael didn’t want to be caught looking at his mouth.
“Won’t you be coming back here later?”
Michael frowned. “What for?”
“You said you could activate the microphone on his phone, so you’d be listening in, right?”
“Yeah, from our offices.”
“Oh.” Harper deflated a little. He bit his lip as though he had more to say but maybe thought better of it. And then said, “I was gonna go with Harry, initially. I can’t sit here and not know what’s going on.”
His earnest expression did unwelcome fluttery things to Michael’s insides. He was well aware that pack bonds went beyond friendship, and Harry and Aaron were members of the same unit too. He knew what Aaron was angling for, but it wasn’t his place to offer it up. Nor did he think it was a wise thing to encourage.
Damn Frank for putting ideas in his head.
Before he had chance to reply, Aaron squeezed his arm, his expression turned pleading. “Can I come to your offices? I won’t get in the way, and maybe I’ll recognise voices, might be able to give you some names. You’ve not spoken to many of Smith’s men, have you, Harry?”
Harry shook his head. “Just the guys on the door and the ones who take the bets.”
“See,” Aaron said. “I know a few of them from when I fight and when I spoke with Smith. I can give you a bit more info for when you come to watch the fights.” He seemed to know he was clutching at straws, judging by the death grip he had on Michael’s arm. But there was no faking that expression—his blue-grey eyes wide with concern—and Michael felt himself cave. It wasn’t a bad idea after all. The more information they had up front, the better.
At least that’s the excuse he told himself as he said. “Let me talk to the chief, see what he has to say.” Ignoring Frank’s raised eyebrow, Michael carefully disentangled himself from Aaron’s grip, the absence of his warm touch immediately noticeable. “I’ll let you know the outcome.”
“Thank you.” Aaron’s smile lit up his face, eyes crinkling at the edges, full lips curved up into something genuine.
Bollocks, he really is hot.
And exactly my type.
Michael returned his smile without thinking.
Damn it.
“Come on,” Frank said, heading for the door. “There’s stuff to be done before tonight.”
There was, and he was grateful for Frank urging him along because the sudden butterflies in his stomach told him things could get complicated if he wasn’t careful.
Once they were in the car and on their way back to the office, Frank tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. Michael sensed the questions waiting to burst out of him.
With a sigh, he glanced over. “Just spit it out, already.”
“Well.” Frank grinned at him, predatory, and Michael groaned inside. “Twice in there you gave in when I expected you to hold your ground.” Michael just grunted in response. “Going soft in your old age?”
“Piss off, I’m only thirty-four.”
Frank’s grin widened. “Must be some other reason then.” He laughed as Michael gave him the finger.
“You know as well as I do that Harry’s meetup could take a turn for the worse. They’re unpredictable, and having a couple more shifters within range is beneficial to us and them. We’d never get there in time to be useful, and God forbid anything does go wrong, at least we can explain to the alpha council that we took every precaution open to us.”
Frank manoeuvred his way through the London traffic, for once not making Michael want to grab the edge of his seat. “Okay, I’ll grant you that Thomas’s suggestion was a good one. But what about Harper?”
Michael turned to look out of the window. He should have just said no to Harper’s request, end of story. “What about him?” he hedged.
“You know you should have point blank refused, right?”
He made a non-committal noise.
“Oh, come on, Arch. We can’t have him in the office with us.”
“Why not?” He put a hand up to ward off Frank’s protests. “He’s right. He does know more of the men who work for Smith. He’s seen them, interacted with them. All we’ll have are voices. If he can put names to them, then that gives us an advantage.”
“Odds are they won’t be their real names, so what good will it do us?”
“When we eventually get to go to a fight, we’d know who to look out for.”
“What?” Frank spared him a quick glance. “It’s not a camera feed we’ll have on Nash. We still won’t know what they look like.”
“Harper can describe them.”
Frank laughed at him. “Admit it. When he flashed that smile at you, you caved.”
“Bollocks did I.” Fucking hell, he had. “And I only said I’d ask. Arlington’s bound to say no. So, no harm, no foul.”
“Mhmm.”
“Can we stop talking about Harper and focus on the case? We need to pick up some fake IDs from the lab. I hope you get a really shitty name this time.”
“Why would I need one? I’m not going undercover, remember?”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake. You’re not, are you?”
“Nope. Someone needs to coordinate you lot.”
Michael grinned at him. “Does that mean you have to write up the reports on our Friday nights, then?”
“Yeah, you can fuck right off if you think I’m doing all of those on my own.” He indicated and pulled into their small car park. “Come on, I believe you have a question for our boss.” He laughed when Michael groaned and was still smiling when he got out of the car.
Arse. Why hadn’t he just said no and stuck with it?
Because shifters saw things differently to humans, that was why. Michael understood that Aaron and Harry were more like brothers than best friends, and Aaron was worried, scared
for him, even.
It had absolutely nothing to do with the way Aaron had looked at him.
Nothing at all.
THE OFFICE was empty except for Bridgford. Michael looked around for Stewart but couldn’t see him.
“Where’s your better half?” he asked with a grin.
“Dentist.” Bridgford took a sip of his coffee and glanced at the empty desk next to him. “Damaged one of his fillings at lunch.”
“Ouch.” Michael grimaced. Going to the dentist was one of his least favourite things. “Will he be joining us later?” Since they’d both be going undercover at the club, they needed to be involved with everything from here on out. They probably should have come over to the pack buildings with them now that he thought about it. They’d meet both Harry and Aaron before long, anyway.
Maybe sooner than later if Arlington was feeling generous.
“Yeah.” Bridgford checked his watch. “He should be back in about an hour.”
“Good.” Turning to Frank, he gestured to their boss’s office. “I’ll be back in a sec.”
“Good luck.” Frank’s smile was huge, and Michael gave him a sarcastic one in return.
“Thanks.”
He knocked on Arlington’s door and was greeted with a gruff, “Come in.” Arlington glanced up from his paperwork and set his pen down when he saw it was Michael. “All set for tonight?”
“Yes, sir.” He paused, then figured it was best to come straight out with it. “Harper wants to be here when Nash meets with Smith’s men. He wants to listen in with us.”
Arlington sat back in his chair, arms folded. “Does he now?”
“Yes. He says he’ll recognise the voices and can give us information on who’s there.” He debated about adding the next bit but decided to do it anyway. “He’s worried about Nash. You know how shifters are.”
Arlington raised his eyebrows at that, and Michael instantly realised what a stupid thing that was to say. He was in charge of the SCTF—of course he knew how shifters were. Duh.
“I just meant—”
Arlington waved away his comments. “I know what you meant.” He met Michael’s gaze and held it, letting the silence stretch out.
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